


Treat Others how you want to be Treated

by BananaSlayer723



Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers, StarKid Productions RPF
Genre: M/M, Quirrellmort - Freeform, but still, i mean not really - Freeform, i might add more idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaSlayer723/pseuds/BananaSlayer723
Summary: a rewrite of THAT scene from after one step ahead where it’s quirrellmortidrk the backstory behind this but yeah blame my friend for encouraging this angst
Relationships: Quirinus Quirrell/Voldemort
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more idk

“It’s time to take your final bow, Voldemort.” He said, voice low and threatening.

_ No. This can’t be real. _

They were finally reunited and Voldemort and Quirrell stood before each other. But their wands were drawn and pointing at the other. Quirrell loomed over the Slytherin as he readjusted his position on the top of the stairs. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t.. Quirrell.

The Quirrell Voldemort knew was so sweet. So eager to learn about new things. Strange, surely, but he wasn’t cruel. Voldemort distinctly remembered seeing his friend’s face light up when they danced, the redness on his face appearing as they saw each other for the first time. He longed to see that expression once more and thus searched everywhere for the other half of his soul.

This wasn’t how he imagined them to meet again. 

“I’m so confused, Quirrell.” Voldemort said before he took a sharp breath, struggling to keep his voice stable. “What are you trying to achieve?” The sharp tone in his voice sounded like a demand, and for a second, Voldemort’s memory of him snapping at Quirrell flashed through his mind. 

Quirrell’s icy glare faltered for a moment as clouds crackled with thunder outside of the building. It was so cold. It reminded the Ravenclaw of Az-

“I’ve wondered that for a while now, Voldemort.” Quirrell stated. “It took me a while to realize. But as my anger towards you grew, so did I. I’ve learned that your downfall was never allowing yourself to feel anything but fear, chasing towards a dream of reaching immortality.” 

__ “How does it feel to have someone who used to be nothing more than just a tool to you, become stronger than you could ever be?” Quirrell’s smile was  _ sickening _ . Voldemort wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream for help.

But nobody would come. He had betrayed the only person who  _ ever cared.  _

__ “It’s not too late, Quirrell.” Voldemort said, panic rising in his voice. “I’m sure if you give up right now, we can start over. Hell, w-we can even go back to being partners in crime! We can prank Hogwarts-“

“Y-YOU DON’T G-GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO.” Quirrell fumed, silencing the other instantly. “ONCE I’M FINISHED, HOGWARTS WILL BE THE FIRST TO GO. I’M GOING TO SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER CONSIDERED  _ HOME _ .”

“ _ What if I considered you home _ ?”

Voldemort’s voice cracked and Quirrell began to lose his tough exterior for a moment. He almost swayed, watching Voldemort with suspicion and caution.

“Look me in the eye and tell me. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“I-“ Quirrell began, his wand beginning to loosen in his sweaty hand and causing it to point at Voldemort’s chest. “People have tried to restrain me from greatness, but I won’t be pushed around anymore.” He spat and he quickly pointed it back upward. His voice was filled with nothing but disdain, and it broke Voldemort’s heart to hear it used against him.

“I’m sorry.”

“What was it you taught me again? There is no good or bad, only power and those too weak to seek it?” Quirrell said thoughtfully. “Well, when I take control of this wizarding world, I won’t need your idea of power.”

“I’ll stop you before you can.”

Quirrell almost laughed. “You’ll try, no doubt.”

Then came the haunting melody of a song only Quirrell and he shared. 

“It’s a comedy of sorts, when you’re bound to Voldemort.” The Ravenclaw sang, sending a shiver down Voldemort’s spine. “And I’m happy as a squirrel, long as I’m with Mr.  _ fucking _ Quirrell..”

This wasn’t right. Voldemort deserved this. He deserved to burn in hell for what he did to Quirrell. But nobody else was to blame, so why was Quirrell trying to punish everyone?

“Funny isn’t it, Voldemort? Saying you’re happy to be with me?” 

Voldemort wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. 

“When I rule the world, there won’t be any dark lords. Any Slytherins, any Hufflepuffs. Only a blind sense of what happiness truly is.” Quirrell was  _ daring _ Voldemort to speak up. He was sick of this silent treatment.

“You used to be happy. Together, we both were.”

A dry laugh.

“That happiness was crushed the moment I learned what you are. A monster.” Quirrell said, and he readjusted his wand’s position.

With one look at the brown haired man’s eyes, Voldemort swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped up the stairs, allowing the wand to press up against his forehead.

“Clearly.” Voldemort looked away.

“Here’s some advice, Voldemort. It’s called treating people the way you want to be treated.”

“ _ EXPELLIARMUS _ !”

As the incantation echoed through the room, Quirrell’s wand flew out of his hands and bounced on the ground twice before settling down on a pool of dry blood.

“You know, you’ll only kill yourself by killing me. I’m your last horcrux, so.. what are you even doing?”

Voldemort brought his wand to Quirrell’s neck.

“Taking your advice.”

  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  



	2. ch1 but it's quirrell's pov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woaoaoaooaoa story of undertaleeeeeeeee
> 
> also u should follow me on insta i make quirrellmort art sometimes <3 @quirinusquirrellenthusiast

“It’s time to take your final bow, Voldemort.” Quirrell said, voice low and threatening, looking at said person.

  
He didn’t know what he expected. 

The ex-dark lord looked a mess, which was a sight to see considering he was always the one yelling about being clean. His eyes had bags under them, and he just looked exhausted. And once slick hair was now messy, with strands sticking out at different angles. 

And how could Quirrell stop there? Voldemort also wore a hoodie of all things. A hoodie . Quirrell almost had to laugh. After killing so many Half-Bloods, Voldemort had the gall to wear something belonging to the Muggles. But then again, this was the guy beaten by a two year old. He shouldn’t expect too much logic out of him.

“I’m so confused, Quirrell.” Voldemort said before he took a sharp breath. His voice was shaky. “What are you trying to achieve?” His voice was sharp. Quirrell pushed away the memories that came with it.

Quirrell’s icy glare faltered for a moment as clouds crackled with thunder outside of the building. It was so cold.

Just like Azkaban, that traitor sent me--

“I’ve wondered that for a while now, Voldemort.” Quirrell stated. “It took me a while to realize. But as my anger towards you grew, so did I. I’ve learned that your downfall was never allowing yourself to feel anything but fear, chasing towards a dream of reaching immortality.” It was obvious, wasn’t it?

“How does it feel to have someone who used to be nothing more than just a tool to you, become stronger than you could ever be?” Quirrell spat. He paid close attention to Voldemort, watching as his expression changed.

He pauses to relish in the despair on his face. 

“It’s not too late, Quirrell.” Voldemort panicked. “I’m sure if you give up right now, we can start over. Hell, w-we can even go back to being partners in crime! We can prank Hogwarts-“

“Y-YOU DON’T G-GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO.” Quirrell raged. Voldemort fell silent at once. “ONCE I’M FINISHED, HOGWARTS WILL BE THE FIRST TO GO. I’M GOING TO SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER CONSIDERED HOME .”

“ _What if I considered you home?_ ” 

Quirrell nearly choked as he heard the noticeable crack in Voldemort’s voice. _Home_ ? Why would Voldemort consider him _home_? If he did, why would he abandon him? Even then, it didn’t matter, right? The damage was already done. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“I-“ Quirrell began, thinking for a moment. His hand loosened its grip. “People have tried to restrain me from greatness, but I won’t be pushed around anymore.” He said finally, and he quickly pointed it back upward, glaring.

“I’m sorry.”

“What was it you taught me again? There is no good or bad, only power and those too weak to seek it?” Quirrell recited the words he remembered. “Well, when I take control of this wizarding world, I won’t need your idea of power.”

“I’ll stop you before you can.”

Quirrell almost laughed. “You’ll try, no doubt.”

He opened his mouth once more, and began to sing the song that he used as a lullaby when he still had hope.

“It’s a comedy of sorts, when you’re bound to Voldemort. And I’m happy as a squirrel, long as I’m with Mr. fucking Quirrell..”

What a fool, Quirrell used to be. Naively believing everyone, and putting trust in those who didn’t deserve it. The world didn’t deserve it. The world didn’t deserve him.

"Funny isn’t it, Voldemort? Saying you’re happy to be with me?”

He waited for a response.

“When I rule the world, there won’t be any dark lords. Any Slytherins, any Hufflepuffs. Only a blind sense of what happiness truly is.” Quirrell said, nonchalantly.

“You used to be happy. Together, we both were.”

A dry laugh.

“That happiness was crushed the moment I learned what you are. A monster.” Quirrell pointed out, and he readjusted his wand’s position.

Quirrell studied the other, curious. Voldemort surprised him and stepped up the stairs, allowing the wand to press up against his forehead.

“Clearly.” Voldemort glanced the other way.

“Here’s some advice, Voldemort. It’s called treating people the way you want to be treated.”

“ _EXPELLIARMUS_!”

When the incantation hit him, Quirrell’s wrist stung and snapped back. He watched as the wand was blasted away, before looking back at Voldemort.

“You know, you’ll only kill yourself by killing me. I’m your last horcrux, so.. what are you even doing?”

He suppressed a shiver as he felt a wand press against his neck.  
  


“Taking your advice.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
